Chapter 20

Inside the inn room.

On the table lay a white crystal stone, a thin copy of “Introduction to Spells,” a green paper crane, and three innate spiritual items bearing spell runes.

“This is a spirit stone. According to Master Chongyun’s notes, spirit stones are the currency of the cultivation world, containing pure heavenly and earthly spiritual energy—could I not absorb it directly for cultivation?”

Wang Yu picked up the crystal, no larger than his little finger, turning it over and over, examining it repeatedly. Its surface was unnaturally smooth, its interior crystal-clear, with faint threads of white light swirling within.

After thinking for a moment, he placed the spirit stone against his dantian, closed his eyes, released his spiritual sense, and silently activated the first-layer “Yin Water Art” incantation.

In his perception, while ordinary cultivation drew in scattered, colorful specks of spiritual energy, the energy drawn from the spirit stone by the art was a stream of milky-white mist—cooler by far, and far easier to channel into his spiritual seed via Yin Water Art.

The spirit stone’s energy truly could aid cultivation!

After nearly an incense stick’s time, Wang Yu opened his eyes, face alight with surprise.

Cultivating Yin Water Art with this spirit stone was vastly more efficient than normal—this brief period equaled days of ordinary practice, surpassing even the Yin Spirit Qi in auxiliary effect.

If he had enough spirit stones to assist, he could reach the second layer of Yin Water Art in less than a month.

Strange—why hadn’t Master Chongyun ever told him this method? Or were spirit stones so rare that even he had none to spare?

Wang Yu pondered, staring at the spirit stone in his hand, and noticed nearly half the white threads had vanished; it had grown noticeably clearer, likely usable only once more before its energy was entirely depleted.

Wang Yu felt a pang of regret, but tucked the spirit stone away and sat down to rest.

Half a day later, once his spirit had recovered somewhat, he picked up the green paper crane to study it, discovering it bore no difference from an ordinary paper crane except for faint crimson veins along its wings.

This item cost seven spirit stones—he dared not dismantle it for study, so he set it aside and took up “Introduction to Spells” for closer examination.

In half an hour, he finished the brief dozen or so pages; when he closed the final page, his face lit with sudden understanding.

“Introduction to Spells” explained something simple, yet finally revealed to him how to learn spells.

According to the book, learning a spell was simply a process of comprehending its spell rune, then meditating it into one’s spiritual sea.

The spell rune visualized within a cultivator’s spiritual sea was typically called a “Spell Mark.” Only by meditating it with the proper incantation could one resonate with one’s own spiritual power and manifest the corresponding spell.

Thus, the book emphasized two key difficulties in mastering spells: comprehending the spell rune, and meditating the “Spell Mark.”

The book stated that those with high spiritual insight could comprehend runes with half the effort, while those with exceptional aptitude could grasp them astonishingly fast.

As for meditating the Spell Mark, it primarily depended on the cultivator’s control over their spiritual sense; other factors could also influence it—such as rune complexity, compatibility between one’s cultivation art and the rune, one’s elemental affinity, and even temporal or environmental conditions.

But overall, the strength of one’s spiritual sense control was the primary factor affecting Spell Mark meditation.

“Introduction to Spells” also briefly outlined the classification of spell tiers.

Spells composed of fewer than six runes were simple to meditate, possessed little power, and were akin to mortal illusions—collectively termed “Illusion Arts.”

Spells composed of more than six runes posed a threat to other cultivators and were the only combat spells accessible to Qi Refinement-stage cultivators—thus called “Entry-Level Spells.”

As for higher-tier spells, “Introduction to Spells” mentioned little, only stating they required immense spiritual power, typically only controllable by Foundation Establishment cultivators or above; the spiritual sea of ordinary Qi Refinement cultivators could not sustain higher-tier Spell Marks.

Wang Yu surmised that higher-tier spells were likely composed of more runes and thus more complex—he would need to master a great many basic runes before he could wield powerful spells.

But unfortunately, aside from the single “Cloud Rune” from the “Bai Yun Jing,” he had encountered almost no runes at all—he’d need to collect more whenever possible.

Thinking of this, Wang Yu placed “Introduction to Spells” back on the table and picked up the red beast hide, probing it with his spiritual sense.

“Firefly Spell”—the Illusion Art demonstrated by Qing Feng—was naturally his first target for study.

In his perception, five crimson runes were scattered across the hide’s center, each shifting and trembling, faint red threads linking them together as if alive—rendering the entire rune pattern impossible to discern clearly.

Having previously comprehended the Cloud Rune, Wang Yu felt no surprise; instead, he focused his spiritual sense, “gazing” at one crimson rune, slowly sensing its changes…

Moments later, Wang Yu withdrew his spiritual sense from the red hide, his face grim.

The Baizhen Pavilion shopkeeper had not lied—the Firefly Spell’s runes were far more difficult to comprehend than the “Cloud Rune” from the “Bai Yun Jing.”

When he had comprehended the “Cloud Rune,” though it required time and patience, it was at least possible. But these runes on the hide—if he lingered too long in perception, he felt dizzy and nauseous, even vomiting at worst, making normal comprehension utterly impossible.

Could Illusion Arts really be this hard to comprehend?

Was his spiritual insight too low—or were “Primordial Spells” inherently this difficult?

Wang Yu muttered to himself, but thankfully still had the “exceptional aptitude” technique—he silently whispered, “Overclock.”

“Overclock Synchronization Mode Activated.”

At the instant the mechanical voice echoed in his mind, deep within Wang Yu’s eyes, a crystalline light flickered; his senses expanded, everything around him slowed to a crawl, and his thoughts entered a wondrous state…

In his spiritual perception, the previously chaotic rune pattern on the hide, under the system’s auxiliary computation, rapidly disassembled: one crimson rune split into countless crimson threads, coalesced into glowing orbs, then formed triangles, then dissolved into tangled knots of light…

After a tea’s time, Wang Yu exhaled slowly and exited Overclock Synchronization Mode.

In his spiritual perception, the crimson rune, once blurred, now stood clear—a luminous, flame-shaped symbol, its surface densely covered in intricate patterns, appearing dreamlike and illusory.

This was the true form of the crimson rune? It looked far more wondrous than the “Cloud Rune.”

Wang Yu stared at it for only a moment, then felt his mouth dry, his body temperature rise, and his mind marvel.

Though the comprehension and computation process seemed brief, the fact it still required such time under Overclock Mode revealed just how difficult this spell rune was.

For an ordinary cultivator, it might take countless days or weeks to achieve even partial insight.

No wonder the Baizhen Pavilion shopkeeper sold it so cheaply.

He cursed the shopkeeper again in his mind, decided against further computation of the other crimson runes, hastily gathered all items, summoned a servant for food, ate a little, then sat on the bed, pondering his current situation.

Compared to the modern world of Blue Star, this alien world was far too dangerous.

Just yesterday, he had been calmly gathering data on this world inside the Daoist temple—next moment, other cultivators stormed in, the Baiyun Temple was destroyed, and he alone remained, a stranger clinging to life.

He still had a month before boarding the ship—if he planned his studies well, he might yet elevate his strength significantly in a short time.

First and foremost, naturally, was “Yin Water Art.” Even with Yin Spirit Qi, it had taken at least half a year to reach the second layer—but now, with spirit stones, achieving this within a month was likely. Once he reached the second layer, he could learn Illusion Arts.

Second, the Four Beasts Diagram had proven effective for body tempering; combined with Blood Refining Soup, it stood a strong chance of fully awakening the “Iron-Scaled Crocodile” bloodline—this training must not cease.

He already had the Blood Refining Soup recipe—he’d visit a pharmacy later to see if he could purchase it pre-made.

Third, the two martial arts he already knew: the Drawblade Technique and the Wind-Splitting Sword Art.

The former was a real-world combat killing art; the latter, a cultivation-world sword technique taught by Master Chongyun. If he practiced both diligently, their power under Overclock Mode would surely not disappoint.

Lastly, external aids.

The greatest external aid was clearly the “Taiyuan Auxiliary System.”

Due to the short time, his understanding of this system remained limited—he must uncover more potential later, especially regarding the “Overclock Synchronization Mode,” his ultimate trump card, and explore it as thoroughly as possible.

Other external aids were merely armor, blades, and such.

He currently wore a soft under-armor, a gauntlet on his right hand impervious to blades and spears, and a silver slender sword usable as a belt—what he now lacked was a suitable long blade for the Drawblade Technique.

With his current extraordinary strength, an ordinary long blade could not withstand even a few uses of “Overclock Drawblade Technique.”

Oh, and the silver folding fan capable of summoning gales—if he could master its use, it could serve as a life-saving tool.

As Wang Yu pondered, his heart grew eager; he rummaged in his robe and pulled out the silver folding fan, slowly unfolding it—the uneven silver patterns on its surface now fully visible.

In his spiritual perception, the patterns on the fan slowly writhed and shifted—clearly another unknown “inscription.”

Wang Yu exhaled softly, lifted the fan, and mimicking the white-robed youth’s motion, swung it forcefully forward.

“Puff.”

A gentle breeze passed—nothing unusual occurred.

Wang Yu did not lose heart; after thinking, he silently recited the “Yin Water Art” incantation, drawing his meager spiritual power, guiding it along his arm’s meridians into the fan.

The silver fan trembled the instant spiritual power entered; part of its silver runes glowed white—but then, just as the glow reached two-thirds of the surface, it abruptly ceased, the white light flickering out.

Wang Yu grunted, his face paling instantly—his spiritual power was completely drained.

Indeed, still not enough!

His current spiritual power could not activate this artifact—he must wait until he reached the second layer of Yin Water Art, generating more spiritual power, before trying again. Another reason to prioritize reaching the second layer.

Wang Yu, disappointed, tucked the fan away, took out the black leather book, located its three recipes, memorized them all, then donned his hood and left the inn.